The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name
by Whatsername Lambert
Summary: Paris, 1899. Aspiring actor Blaine Anderson moves to Paris to pursue his dream. There he meets Kurt Hummel, a beautiful and talented performer with a dark past. What happens if his romantic feelings for Kurt contradict everything he's ever believed? / AU oneshot. Loosely based on Moulin Rouge.


**Hello! A few things, first of all. This was originally supposed to be based on Baz Luhrmann's amazing film _Moulin Rouge_, and it starts off like that, but then it kind of started to go off in its own direction. The fact that this deals with a relationship between two men instead of a man and a woman in turn-of-the-century Europe kind of changed things a bit.**

***le scholarly lecture* Homosexuality used to be very taboo back in the day. It wasn't something that was openly talked about all the time. In some places, such as England, it was considered a criminal offense. My absolute favorite writer of all time, Oscar Wilde, was just one of the men who was actually arrested, put on trial, and convicted…of being gay. The title of this story comes from a homosexually resonant poem by Wilde's lover, Lord Alfred Douglas, which Wilde later referenced at his trial when he spoke in defense of same-sex love. So that's where that comes from.**

**Okay, explanation over. Another inspiration for this story came from this picture by the amazing muchacha11, who actually drew Moulin Rouge!Klaine. I saw this a while ago and fell in love with it. (take out the spaces in the link, blah blah blah.)**

**http:/ muchacha10. deviantart. com/gallery/#/d4dxz94**

**The last few fics I've written that are based on movies (West Side Story, Titanic) both have sad endings. _Moulin Rouge _has a sad ending. I may or may not have changed that. Guess you'll just have to see. :)**

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><p><strong>THE LOVE THAT DARE NOT SPEAK ITS NAME<strong>

"'The love that dare not speak its name...is that deep, spiritual affection that is as pure as it is perfect...it is in this century misunderstood...it is beautiful, it is fine, it is the noblest form of affection. There is nothing unnatural about it."  
>- Oscar Wilde, 1894;<br>speaking in defense of the love between two men at his criminal trial for homosexuality.

**1900**

_I came to Paris one year ago to perform. Acting and singing is my one true love – this I've known my whole life. I did not come here to question who I am. I did not come here to fall in love._

The incessant clacking of the typewriter keys was the only sound that echoed through the room. Blaine Anderson wasn't even thinking as he wrote. He let the words flow from his heart and soul through the tips of his fingers, onto the keys, eventually materializing on the paper in front of him.

He sighed as he skipped down to begin a new line. His whole being was consumed with thoughts of one specific individual, whose presence was evident in every stroke of the keys.

_I did not come here to fall in love with someone who represented everything that contradicted what I had been raised to believe my whole life. I did not come here to fall in love with a boy._

Blaine paused and closed his eyes. It was amazing how his lover's face could materialize in his mind like this, clear as day, whenever he wished. But his mental images did no justice to the real thing – those magical eyes, the softness of his skin, the delicious curves of his lips.

_There was just something about him, though. The second I laid eyes on him – Kurt Hummel, superstar extraordinaire, the Sparkling Diamond, pride and joy of the Moulin Rouge – I was immediately captivated. He made me feel things I'd never felt before. At first, I hated myself for it. Being so attracted to another man…that would mean I was a homosexual, wouldn't it? That wasn't right. Acting on my impulses would have been considered a crime in some places; a mental disease in others; and worst of all, a sin in the Catholic world which had raised me so carefully._

_But was it such a bad thing that I didn't even care – that I wanted to act on those impulses? I wanted him, and I was so afraid of what that meant. I managed to stop hating myself, and eventually he was mine. It was so wrong and both of us knew it, but neither of us gave a damn. We shared something deeper than pure physical affection. It soon became clear to me that I was in love with him, and he loved me as well. If our love was a crime, Kurt and I were criminals. If our love was a mental disease, we would have gladly gone to the asylum rather than deny our love. And if it was a sin…well, that would make us sinners._

Blaine stopped typing and stared at the words on the page for a long time. The prose itself seemed so flat and lifeless. He knew he would never be able to give true life to the things he felt in his heart.

For a second he considered ripping the sheet of paper right out of the typewriter and throwing it into the fireplace. Maybe it was a bit too early to be publishing a memoir. Publishing such a confession at this point could be dangerous. There was a fleeting thought that crossed his mind. Would it really hurt to wait a few years?

Blaine didn't want to think about that. Not now. All he wanted to think about now was Kurt.

He decided to continue writing. There was nothing that said he _had _to publish this now. All he could do in the present moment was let his fingers fly over the keys and be carried away by his words.

_I still remember the very first day I ever laid eyes on him. When I arrived in Paris, I had no idea that my whole way of thinking would be changed just hours after I stepped off the train_…

**One year earlier**

The station was loud and overcrowded and smelled horrible. Blaine absolutely loved it.

He'd been dreaming of coming to Paris to pursue his career as an actor for over a year now, and he'd _finally _made it here – despite protests from his parents. "You'll never amount to anything there," they'd told him. "You're going to spend all you have just on the train fare and paying to board somewhere, and you'll never get it back. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get a job in Paris as a performer?" They believed he should stay in Dublin and go to seminary. Blaine had no intention of losing his devout faith, but he decided he could still remain a Catholic while pursuing his dream…right?

Plus, he was twenty years old, for crying out loud – he didn't need his mother and father telling him what he could and couldn't do. Besides, he wasn't even completely broke yet. His friends Wes and David had come here a few months earlier to pursue performing careers as well, and both had actually managed to earn a small living as musicians. Blaine had been writing letters to them ever since they'd left Ireland, and they'd both welcomed Blaine to stay with them in the small apartment they rented after he'd told them he was coming. So finding a place to stay had not been a problem at all. Plus, maybe the two of them would be able to help him get some work.

He slung the one bag he'd brought with him over his shoulder and glanced around the crowded platform, looking for his friends. Wes and David had both said they'd come pick him up from the station, but where the hell were they?

He didn't have to search long, though, because suddenly there was a voice calling out from somewhere in the thick crowd. "Blaine! Hey! Blaine Anderson!"

Blaine immediately turned in the direction of the voice and saw David standing a few yards away, waving to get his attention. Wes was beside him, looking annoyed. He said something to David and glanced towards Blaine; David immediately stopped his obnoxious waving.

"Hey, you made it!" Wes shouted cheerfully over the white noise of the train station as Blaine approached them. He pulled his friend into a one-armed hug. "How was the trip?"

Blaine smiled wearily. "Long, but I'm glad I'm finally here. I kind of just want to lie down and rest for a little bit."

"All right, but not for _too _long," David warned him. "We have somewhere we want to take you tonight."

Blaine squinted in confusion as the three of them pushed through the last swell of the crowd on the platform, into the significantly less crowded main part of the station. "Where are we going?"

Wes and David showed a knowing smirk. For whatever reason, this made Blaine nervous.

"The Moulin Rouge," David said with a grin.

Blaine raised one eyebrow. "The _what_?"

Wes rolled his eyes. "Please, Blaine. For someone who wants to be an actor so badly, you really don't know much about the local theater scene here," he said exasperatedly. "The Moulin Rouge is the most popular theater and nightclub in Paris. The performers there are among the best in the world. People come from miles around to see the star of the show."

"Who's the star of the show?" Blaine asked. They were out of the station now and headed down the street. Wes had told Blaine in one of his letters that the small apartment they rented was just down the street from the train station, so Blaine wasn't expecting much of a walk.

"Oh, none other than the Sparkling Diamond himself," David said with a sly grin. He paused for dramatic effect. "Monsieur Kurt Hummel."

Blaine was thoroughly confused by this point. "Kurt Hummel? That sounds German. Is he from around here?"

"Oh, nobody knows for sure. He never tells anybody much about himself," Wes told him. "It's part of the mystery about him. All we know is that he showed up at the Moulin Rouge about a year ago, and the place has never had better business. He's spectacular. The owner of the place, a man by the name of William Schuester, takes great pride in him."

"This is it," David said out of the blue, stopping in front of the building that must have housed their apartment and pulling open the door. He turned to Blaine as they stepped inside. "Basically, Kurt Hummel is the epitome of what every single performer here wants to achieve someday. And…"

He trailed off, and Wes immediately picked up where he'd left off with a proud grin on his face.

"We got you an audition with him," he said.

Blaine stopped, frozen in his tracks even as Wes pulled open the door to their first-floor apartment. He couldn't have moved even if he'd wanted to. "_What_?"

"We got you an audition for the Moulin Rouge," Wes clarified. "With Kurt Hummel."

Blaine blinked a few times, trying to comprehend. "You got me an audition at the most popular theater-nightclub-place in town, with the star attraction himself? And you _just _decide to tell me this now?"

"Come on, Blaine, you definitely have the talent to get a gig there," David said encouragingly. "Especially if Hummel sees you first. Schuester himself hardly sees any first-time auditions. He usually has Hummel watch them, because he's the star and his opinion is the most important. If Hummel sees you perform and he likes you, then he'll put in a good word for you with Schuester, which is always a good thing. Schuester never hires anyone if Hummel doesn't like them. This could be your big break, Blaine. You should be thanking us."

Blaine had to scoff at that. "_Thanking _you for setting up a surprise audition for me the day I finally get my ass to Paris? Are you out of your minds? I…I don't even have anything prepared, I…"

He trailed off absentmindedly and collapsed on the ratty old couch in the main room of their apartment. "I need to lie down," he finished.

If he _had _to go through with this, he figured he at least had a few hours before they would leave. He would get something pulled together before then, but at the present moment all he wanted to do was rest. Wes and David just weren't going to let that happen, though.

"No, there's no time!" Wes immediately grabbed Blaine's wrist and, with some effort, managed to pull him to a sitting position. "I know you must be exhausted, but you have to understand, Blaine. Kurt Hummel doesn't allow just anyone to audition for him. He has to be convinced that the potential addition to the show is truly talented enough to be worth his time. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to have the performing career of your dreams. Don't you want to prove your parents wrong?"

"If he doesn't allow just anyone to audition for him, then how did you get me in?" Blaine countered, rather than responding to his friend's question.

"Never mind that, just trust us," David coaxed.

Blaine rolled his eyes, quite beyond the point of annoyance. "I'm not so sure I want to trust you," he said. "And I'm not sure I want to audition for this Kurt Hummel. He sounds like quite a handful. I'm not sure how I feel about having him judge me. I wouldn't want to feel like I'm wasting his precious time."

"You won't be wasting his time," Wes reassured him. Then, without giving Blaine a chance to respond, he crossed the room and lifted a heavy volume off the bookshelf. "Here, take this. You'd better get to work."

"What is—," Blaine started, but Wes had already plopped the book down in his lap. Blaine glanced down at the faded cover. The words _The Complete Works of William Shakespeare _stared back up at him.

"If I were you, I'd get to work preparing a soliloquy or something," Wes suggested. "I happen to know he has a soft spot for the Bard."

xxx

Four hours later, Blaine found himself more terrified and amazed at the same time than he'd ever felt in his life.

The Moulin Rouge…there were no words to describe it. All around him were vibrant colors and carefree voices and pulsating music. Blaine sat at a table in the corner with Wes and David, nursing a glass of wine and taking in the scene. Kurt Hummel had yet to make his appearance. He always arrived in style, or so Wes and David had said. For now, though, Blaine was perfectly content to drink in the other sights and sounds of this exciting place.

"What do you think so far?" Wes had to practically shout so that Blaine could hear him above the music and voices.

Blaine glanced around at the scene blooming around them and smiled wryly. "It's very lively," he shouted back. _Understatement of the century_.

David leaned in closer to Blaine so that he wouldn't have to speak quite so loudly. He pointed to a man near the middle of the dance floor who was leading the current song. "See him? That's William Schuester. He runs this whole place." He paused. "Also wears a lot of product in his hair. I don't understand how a man can stand that."

Blaine was suddenly grateful for the top hat he was wearing that covered up his own hair. He'd gelled it into oblivion before they'd left, not sure how the people here would expect him to look. It seemed, though, that there was too much going on for anyone besides Wes and David to pay specific attention to him.

Suddenly the music stopped and the lights went down. A hush fell over the entire room. Blaine glanced around in confusion for a few seconds until Wes said, "Look," and pointed up towards the ceiling.

Blaine looked up to see an ornately decorated trapeze being lowered from the ceiling. A human figure sat on top of it, illuminated by a lone spotlight. There was no doubt in Blaine's mind who this was.

"It's him. The Sparkling Diamond," Wes whispered breathlessly. "Kurt Hummel."

Kurt Hummel began to sing, his voice low and sweet to begin. From the very first note, Blaine felt something taking over him. He was immediately captivated by this Kurt Hummel's voice. It had stolen the breath right out of Blaine's lungs. He had never heard something so immaculate in his life.

But as the trapeze on which he was sitting got lower to the ground, Kurt's voice escalated higher and higher until he was hitting notes that Blaine had never even dreamed existed. It was no less enchanting than when he'd first began. In fact, his higher range may have even been more alluring. Blaine had never heard anything in his life that even compared to how wonderful Kurt Hummel sounded. He was completely rapt with attention, unable to take his eyes off of the man riding the trapeze down to the ground.

Kurt Hummel himself was extraordinarily beautiful. Blaine noticed that right off the bat. His costume (or lack thereof) was little more than a bejeweled silver leotard that showed off his broad shoulders and long legs. The single spotlight that shone on him created a hypnotic effect on his pale skin. A black top hat was perched on his head and he wore long black gloves that extended practically up the whole length of his otherwise bare arms. As he hit those mind-blowingly gorgeous high notes, his eyes closed softly and his lips moved with masterful precision to bring the lyrics to life. For a fleeting second, Blaine was completely and utterly awestruck.

But then the true nature of his thoughts hit him like a blow to the face. Kurt Hummel was a _man_, as evidenced by the slight bulge that tented the front of his minimal attire (performing must really get him going, Blaine thought). And although Blaine wasn't quite sure what he was feeling, he knew that these things he was feeling towards Kurt Hummel were not right at all. He should not be feeling this way about another man. He should not be so blissfully captivated by the sound of his voice and the erotic faces he made as he soared to the upper octaves of his range. And he certainly should not be feeling an unmistakable tightness in his own pants as the object of his desire demonstrated his flexibility by twisting himself into various positions around the trapeze.

No, this was not right. Nothing about this was right. Blaine had been raised in a devout Catholic home. He vividly remembered sitting in Mass, listening to the priest preaching angrily in Latin about the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, issuing bitter warnings against the sin of homosexuality. These things that Blaine was feeling went against everything he'd been raised to believe. Everything about this was so completely wrong.

But then Kurt Hummel was getting off the trapeze and slinking his way through the crowd with an enticing smirk playing his lips. He'd stopped singing for the moment and instead took advantage of this opportunity to drink in the lavish amount of attention that was being poured on him. He was unrepentant about flirting with both sexes, winking at women and blowing kisses to men who seemed just as eager to return his affections. Hands reached out to touch him as he passed. Everyone, it seemed, wanted a piece of him.

Blaine was paralyzed with fear as he realized that Kurt Hummel seemed to be making his way towards the table in the corner where he sat with Wes and David. He immediately looked away from the performer and turned back to his friends.

"Oh my god, he's coming over here," he whispered in fear.

Wes glanced up to see Kurt Hummel just a few yards away from their table, eyes trained on Blaine. He turned to Blaine with a smirk. "He wants to dance with you."

Blaine began to panic. "What if I don't want to dance with _him_?"

Really, though, he knew it was a lie. Deep down inside, he was aching to dance with this beautiful man who fascinated him so. But he knew he would never be able to go through with it. Dancing with Kurt Hummel would just reaffirm everything he'd feared – that he was physically attracted to this man, that he was becoming what he'd been raised to despise.

But he didn't have much time to think about this, because suddenly an unfamiliar hand was wrapped around his wrist and he was being pulled abruptly to his feet, away from the table. Blaine glanced at the hand that had grabbed him and his gaze trailed up the rest of the black-gloved arm, until he was looking into the astonishingly stunning eyes of Kurt Hummel.

"_Bonjour_," Kurt Hummel said with a devious glimmer in those beautiful eyes. His speaking voice was buoyant and high-pitched and made Blaine weak in the knees. "I'm Kurt."

He pulled Blaine out to the center of the dance floor to a rousing ovation from the crowd. Blaine remained frozen with shock as Kurt twirled himself into Blaine's arms. He wrapped his arms around Blaine's shoulders and curled one long leg around his waist. Blaine couldn't breathe.

Kurt giggled a little bit. "Aren't you going to tell me your name?"

Blaine couldn't move for the life of him. He stood completely still in the middle of the dance floor, unresponsive as Kurt Hummel seduced him in front of the whole crowd. The rest of the people began to cheer as Kurt turned himself around and took both of Blaine's limp hands. He placed Blaine's hands on his waist and began to grind right up against him. Blaine's eyes went wide when he heard the way the crowd was responding to this. Here he was, being made the victim of blatant homosexuality, and they were _cheering_?

But it didn't take him long to realize that _he _was responding to it, too. He felt himself growing more and more aroused as Kurt kept rubbing himself back up on Blaine, creating that undeniably arousing friction. Mercifully, it was only a few seconds before Kurt turned back around. He brought his face close to Blaine's as he spoke.

"Do I make you nervous?" he breathed, and Blaine couldn't help staring at Kurt's lips as he spoke.

He slinked around Blaine's body again and ran one gloved hand down Blaine's chest, pausing right above his waist. Kurt glanced down at Blaine's unmistakable arousal and giggled.

"I can see I'm turning you on," those perfect, plush lips said. Blaine wanted the floor to open up and swallow him right then and there. _Why was he still staring at those lips_? And more importantly, why was he wondering what they tasted like?

Kurt wrapped Blaine in his arms again, his face so close that their noses were practically touching. Blaine looked into those eyes and saw nothing but hunger, lust, desire…all the same feelings he was trying so desperately to ignore. The look in Kurt Hummel's eyes and the sheer knowledge that Blaine himself reciprocated those feelings terrified him. Suddenly he couldn't take it anymore.

He pulled himself free from Kurt's arms and broke off into a dead sprint back towards the table where Wes and David had been watching the whole spectacle. The crowd let out a near-collective gasp – who in their right mind would leave the Sparkling Diamond himself stranded in the middle of the dance floor? – but Blaine didn't give a damn what they thought. He shoved through the sea of stunned faces and conglomerated bodies and collapsed back into his seat at Wes and David's table.

"Blaine!" David hissed. "What the hell was that for?"

But Blaine paid his friend no mind. He glanced up towards the dance floor, where Kurt Hummel was standing alone. His hands were planted angrily on his hips and those lips were pushed out into a sad little pout. The crowd _awww_ed. _The poor boy_, they were probably thinking. _Abandoned in the middle of all these people who love and adore him, people who would kill to have a piece of him. Didn't that man know how lucky he was? How many of us would have done anything to be in his place?_

"But who will dance with me now?" Kurt cried, throwing his hands up in despair, then repeated himself in French. "_Qui va danser avec moi maintenant_?"

_Oh, shut up_, Blaine thought absentmindedly. He turned away from Kurt and back to Wes and David.

"I didn't want to dance with him," he said halfheartedly, knowing he didn't mean it. Really, though, he hated himself for what he'd done. Why hadn't he stayed out there dancing with Kurt? Would it really have been so bad to defy everything he'd known just for one night? It wasn't like he'd been hurting anyone by merely dancing with another man…

"Listen to me," Wes said in a low, serious tone. "If Kurt Hummel wants to dance with you, Blaine, then you dance with him. _Nobody _has ever abandoned him like that."

"Well, there's a first time for everything," Blaine snapped. "And if you think I'm auditioning for him later tonight, you're a lunatic."

"Blaine, it's bad enough that you did what you just did," David warned. "If you skip the audition, too, well…let's just say that Kurt Hummel has a lot of power in the local press. The papers all pay attention to what he says. He'll expose you as a coward, and no performing company will ever dream of hiring you. Do you really want that after everything that's happened so far here tonight, or do you want to do what you came here to do?"

Blaine sighed in defeat. He couldn't win.

"Fine," he said. "I'll go to the damn audition."

"Excellent," David said with a satisfied smile. His expression completely changed as he glanced up again towards the dance floor. "Oh, look, he's doing the grand finale."

Blaine looked up to see Kurt Hummel being seated on his trapeze once again. He waved and blew kisses to his hordes of admirers as it was raised up higher above the floor towards the ceiling. It seemed that he'd completely recovered from the humiliation he'd suffered at the hands of Blaine just a few minutes before.

He began to sing, his voice every bit as captivating as it had been earlier. Blaine suddenly felt terrible for what he'd done. Yes, he knew that what Kurt had been trying to do was wrong, but on the other hand…he was so magnificently talented. There was something special about him, Blaine couldn't deny that. He could only watch with subdued regret as the trapeze carried Kurt away.

The whole time he had his eyes on Kurt, there was a voice pestering him in the back of his head. _What would your mother and father say_?

He tried very hard to ignore it.

xxx

Blaine was a nervous wreck as he stood outside the door to Kurt Hummel's private quarters later that night. Wes and David were with him, blabbering reassurances, but Blaine knew they would probably have to leave soon. Something told him Kurt wouldn't take too kindly to his friends observing the audition.

Before Blaine could protest, David raised his fist and knocked on the door. Blaine managed to gulp down a few deep breaths in the few seconds it took for Kurt to answer the door.

Blaine was immediately struck breathless when the door was pulled open from the other side. Kurt was wearing a maroon silk bathrobe that exposed a large of expanse of the creamy skin of his chest – and, it seemed, nothing else. His hair was perfectly coiffed and he wore a smile that suggested he was genuinely happy to see Wes and David.

"Wesley, David!" he greeted them cheerfully, but his entire expression clouded over with disapproval when he looked at Blaine. "Oh."

David bowed as a sign of respect. "Monsieur Hummel," he said, "may I introduce my dear friend Blaine Anderson. He's come to audition for you this evening."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "I see," he said warily, stepping aside so that Blaine could get through the doorway. "Well, come on in. I haven't got all night."

Blaine hesitantly stepped into the apartment, shooting a helpless glance over his shoulder at Wes and David. They smirked and waved goodbye to him as Kurt shut the door.

Once they were completely alone, Kurt turned to acknowledge Blaine with a look of blunt honesty. "Well, this is sufficiently awkward," he said. "_You _were the man who humiliated me on the dance floor."

"Excuse me?" Blaine shot back, his tone harsher than what he'd intended. "_I _humiliated _you_? What made you think you had the right to seduce me in front of all those people? Don't you know how wrong it is?"

Kurt stretched himself out on the fainting couch and picked up a glass of red wine that was on the end table beside it. He took a long sip before speaking again.

"There is nothing wrong with the love that dare not speak its name," he said languidly, tracing the tip of his pinky finger around the rim of his wine glass. Blaine was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Kurt made no effort to invite him to sit.

He blinked. "You mean the love between two men?"

"What else is there?" Kurt asked in response. His eyes flicked up to meet Blaine's gaze. "For me, personally, that love is the only kind I know."

"What are you saying?" Blaine asked, staring down at the other man in complete and utter disbelief. "It is a _sin_, Kurt, do you understand me? Have you not heard of Sodom and Gomorrah? The Lord _punished _them for being what _you _are. A sinner. And you had no place to try to rope me into your immoral lifestyle."

"I was just doing my job," Kurt said innocently, eyes wide. "Schuester pays me to sing and dance and give the crowd what they want. It's not my fault you were aroused by it." He shrugged.

"But…but…," Blaine stammered, trying to think of a way to counter this. "You just said yourself that the love between two men is the only love that you know. That would make you a homosexual, wouldn't it?" He glared down at Kurt, who didn't respond for a few seconds. Blaine repeated his last two words with even more vengeance. "_Wouldn't it_?"

Kurt tipped his head to one side. His eyes remained fixed on Blaine's. "I guess it would. What's it to you, anyway?"

Blaine sighed in exasperation. "What's it to _me_? Oh, you only tried to pull me away from the morals and values I've held my whole life, that's all! I've got to hand it to you, Kurt, you're an incredible talent. You're spectacular. But…but what you are is _wrong_. It's a sin and a mental disease."

Kurt raised one eyebrow. "I didn't know it was a mental disease." He took a sip of his wine. "Oh well. I must be ill, then, even though I feel perfectly fine."

"You didn't hear? American doctors have classified homosexuality as a mental illness," Blaine told him. "Over in the States they'd have you carted off to the asylum before you knew what was happening. Not to mention it's a crime just across the Channel, over in England. Look at what happened to Wilde a few years ago. The man could have been a literary genius, but what is he now? A criminal – arrested, put on trial, and convicted of homosexuality. That's all he'll be remembered as. A convicted homosexual. Where's the honor in that?"

"Oh, who hasn't heard about that?" Kurt said blithely. "He made a beautiful speech about the love between men at his trial. I know exactly what he meant with that speech, because I feel it, too. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me, or with anyone like me."

Blaine rolled his eyes, honestly sick of having this conversation. In all truthfulness, he had no interest in spending any more time with this boy who provoked such immoral feelings in him. He just wanted to leave.

"Can I just read my audition piece and get it over with?" he asked. "That _is _what I came here to do, after all."

Kurt shook his head. "No, Blaine, because now you have offended me. First you humiliated me, and now this. I would like to know why, if you are so vehemently opposed to the way I am, you were so visibly aroused when I danced with you earlier this evening."

Blaine just stared at him some more, honestly clueless as to what he should say.

Kurt suddenly sat up straight and moved his legs so that Blaine could sit. "Oh, how rude of me, you've just been standing there looking terribly uncomfortable. Please sit."

Blaine sat warily on the other end of the fainting couch, as far away from Kurt as possible.

"Now please tell me," Kurt said once Blaine was seated. The look in his eyes suggested that he was genuinely interested in Blaine's response. "I want to know, Blaine. Whatever you say, I won't judge you. All I ask is that you're honest with me."

Blaine looked at the floor. He couldn't bring himself to meet Kurt's eyes.

"Honestly," he said slowly, "I found myself attracted to you. It brings me so much shame to admit that, because it violates everything I was raised to believe. But I…I can't deny it, Kurt. You're marvelous. There's something just so captivating about you, I can't quite put my finger on it. But at the same time, I know I shouldn't be feeling these things. It's not…it's not _right_. I hate myself for how I feel about you."

Kurt looked at him for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.

"I think it's no secret how I feel about you, Blaine," he said. "But if me acting on those feelings makes you uncomfortable, then I won't. I can accept that."

Blaine bowed his head humbly. "Thank you," he said. "I appreciate that."

There was a sudden knock at the door. Kurt jumped up from the couch and quickly crossed the room to go answer it. Blaine watched him, immediately annoyed at whoever it was. He wanted to keep on talking to Kurt, and whoever was at the door had rudely interrupted their conversation.

Kurt looked out through the peephole and immediately groaned. "Dammit," he said, then turned back to Blaine. "I forgot I agreed to see another audition tonight besides just yours. Do you mind waiting?"

Blaine shook his head. "Not at all. I'm in no rush."

"All right, good. I just want to get her over with, so we can get back to our discussion." He paused, a slight frown forming on his lips. "Actually, Blaine, if you don't mind, could you go into the other room? I try to put everyone who auditions for me at ease, and some people are uncomfortable if someone else is in the room…"

"I understand," Blaine said, nodding as he stood up and quickly stepped into the next room.

The room in which he found himself was dark, so he couldn't exactly tell what it was, but he could still see Kurt opening the door and greeting a short, dark-haired girl with a rather large nose. She seemed to be particularly excited to see him.

"Mademoiselle Berry, I presume?" he asked, and she nodded eagerly. "Please come in."

The girl stepped over the threshold and gave him a flirtatious smile. "Please call me Rachel," she giggled. "It's wonderful to meet you, Kurt. You're extraordinary. It is an absolute honor for me to be in your presence and audition for you."

Blaine wasn't sure why, but something about this Rachel girl immediately annoyed him.

"_Merci beaucoup_." Kurt smiled politely. "All right, let's get started. Have you prepared an audition piece?"

"_Romeo and Juliet_. Act one, scene five," she told him. "I've heard you're a Shakespeare fan."

"Oh, sounds perfect! I know it by heart," Kurt said. Blaine racked his brain as he watched them, trying to remember what went on in act one, scene five…

"I was thinking we could begin with Romeo and Juliet's first meeting," Rachel explained. "You're Romeo, so you have the first line. Whenever you're ready."

Blaine saw Kurt close his eyes for a second, collecting himself and getting into character. When he opened them, he took both of Rachel's hands and began to speak.

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand

This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

When Rachel started speaking, Blaine couldn't tell if she was acting or if she was still reveling in the fact that she was actually here, performing this iconic scene with such a talented performer. Either way, she seemed very eager as she spoke Juliet's lines.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;

For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

She raised her hand and placed it palm to palm with Kurt's, just as the lines instructed. It was hard to see from where Blaine was peeking out over the threshold of the next room, but there seemed to be a coy kind of innocence in her eyes.

Kurt kept his hand up against Rachel's as he said his next line. "Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"

Rachel laughed a little bit. "Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."

All this talk of lips was making Blaine think back to his encounter with Kurt on the dance floor, when the other man's face had been so close to his own. He recalled just how tempting Kurt's lips had looked in that moment. For a fleeting second, he wondered if it would really be such a sin to steal one kiss and see for himself if they felt as good as they looked.

Well, lucky Rachel was just about to find out for herself. For some reason, Blaine envied her.

Kurt placed his free hand on the side of her face and looked into her eyes as he continued the script.

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;

They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

Rachel's voice was weak as she responded. Blaine couldn't exactly blame her. Kurt's eyes were absolutely breathtaking. It was hard to remember coherency when he fixed his intense stare upon someone. "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."

Blaine's heart was racing in his chest with unimaginable dread. He knew what was coming next.

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take," Kurt said. His face was close to hers now. "Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged."

Before Blaine even got a chance to prepare himself, his heart sank as Kurt pulled Rachel into a kiss that seemed to steal all the breath out of her body. As he watched them kiss, his mind was racing with questions he couldn't answer – mostly along the lines of _Why do I want to be in her place so badly_?

The kiss probably only lasted a few seconds, but in Blaine's conflicted mind it felt like a lifetime. When they pulled away, Rachel was breathless and delirious and giggling as she tried to remain in character. "Then have my lips the sin that they have took."

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!" Kurt cried. "Give me my sin again."

Another kiss. Of course. Blaine couldn't watch any longer. He turned his face away and squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe when he opened them again, he would be back home in England and none of this would have happened. He would not be jealous of a girl for kissing another man, for crying out loud. He would not be questioning everything he'd ever known.

He opened his eyes reluctantly when he heard Kurt and Rachel break the kiss, but still didn't look at them. Rachel was all giggly again. "You kiss by the book," she told him.

Blaine looked up to see Kurt break character completely. "And then the Nurse comes in and interrupts them, so we can't really continue," he said, chuckling a little bit. "But I think you did a great job. You're very…passionate in your acting."

Rachel giggled again. _Did she ever stop doing that_? "Oh, thank you. It means a lot to hear that from such a gifted actor as yourself."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Blaine couldn't believe she hadn't noticed that Kurt was clearly not interested. In fact, he wouldn't be interested in _any _woman…

Kurt forced a polite smile. "I think you'll be great for the Moulin Rouge. I'll put in a good word for you with Schuester and he'll set up a time for you to audition for him."

"Thank you!" Rachel pulled him into a tight hug and squeezed him close to her for a second, then took his face between both of her hands and kissed him again. Blaine wanted to throw up. At least before, they'd been in character. This was purely Kurt and Rachel.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself," Rachel giggled when Kurt finally broke away. "You give good kisses." She ran her fingers tantalizingly over his lips.

_I bet he does_, Blaine thought.

"Thank you," Kurt said with a wry smile. He gently began guiding her towards the door. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I have another auditionee coming tonight and he'll be here any minute."

"That's all right, because I'm sure we'll be spending a lot of time together, anyway." Rachel shot him a wink over her shoulder and waved flirtatiously as she stepped out the door. "Bye, handsome."

Kurt shut the door behind her, locked it, and groaned in exasperation. "Good God, I thought that was never going to end."

Blaine stepped tentatively out of the room where he'd been hiding. "If it makes you feel any better, you were the best Romeo I've ever seen," he offered.

Kurt rolled his eyes as Blaine took a seat on the couch where he'd been sitting earlier. "Thank you. I don't know what it is about some women. They seem to think I'm interested in them, when clearly I'm not. It's frustrating. I don't understand why they're so hell-bent on earning my affection."

"I can't say I blame them, though," Blaine said quietly.

Kurt, still standing, shot a sudden glance to where Blaine was sitting on the couch. "What?"

Blaine realized what he'd said and shook his head. "Nothing. I need to stop thinking like this. I'm not going to let myself become something so wrong."

Kurt looked at Blaine for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was soft.

"Blaine, I haven't even seen you act or perform, but I like you. You clearly have the passion and emotion that makes a performer at the Moulin Rouge great," he said. "I'll tell Schuester I was thoroughly impressed with your audition and have him set up an official tryout for you."

He stopped talking, but Blaine sensed that there was more he wanted to say. He waited patiently.

"And I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry," Kurt continued humbly. "For making you feel uncomfortable earlier. I wish you all the best in your audition, because I think you would do a fantastic job at the Moulin Rouge. But I'll keep my distance from you. And I'll do my best not to let my mental illness affect you."

The way he said it made it clear that Kurt did not think it was a mental illness.

"All right," was all Blaine said.

He stood up from the couch and headed silently towards the door. Kurt didn't take his eyes off of him.

"Thank you for your time," Blaine said softly before he left.

He stepped into the hallway outside of Kurt's apartment and shut the door quietly behind him. For some reason unbeknownst even to Blaine himself, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

xxx

As per usual, Blaine knelt beside his bed that night to pray. He crossed himself, then folded his hands and bowed his head as he began to pray silently for Kurt.

But he didn't get very far before his mind started to wander away from prayer onto a track of its own. Why was he doing this, anyway? Was Kurt truly mentally ill? Was it necessary to ask God to purge him of a "disease" that may not have even _been _a disease? And what about the sinful aspect of it? Blaine knew that all people were sinners – it was human nature; nobody was perfect. But why should Kurt's love of and attraction to other men make him a sinner in that respect? Because some priest and the Bible said so? Blaine had too many questions and not enough answers.

He forced his train of thought to get back on the spiritual track and crossed himself again to begin a completely new prayer.

_Heavenly Father, I've been feeling very conflicted lately and I don't know what to do about it. You see, just today I met someone incredible. I've never felt like this about anyone before in my life. But being with him – yes, him – would go against the values with which I've been raised my whole life. But even with that being said…I want to be with him, God. I know some people say it's a sin or a crime or a mental disease, but now that I think about it…I honestly don't see how that could be. I know these feelings should be wrong, but they feel so right. Kurt is absolutely wonderful. I just need some guidance as to how to pursue my feelings for him_.

And with that, he crawled into bed but didn't get much sleep. The next morning, he rose early and walked several blocks to the Cathédrale Notre Dame to go to Confession.

It was more of a formality than anything. Blaine had been raised by parents who mandated going to Confession at least once a month. He still kept the tradition out of habit, and he had yet to go this month anyway. He still had no idea what to do about Kurt – if his thoughts about the other man counted as a sin or not. Blaine decided not to think about it. Whether or not he would confess to it remained to be seen.

The famous cathedral was, strangely enough, almost completely empty. Blaine had no problem finding a vacant confessional. Once inside the small room, he closed the door and fell to his knees.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," he said instinctively as he crossed himself.

He began to confess his sins to the priest on the other side of the partition. The priest gave him a penance and blessed him, and Blaine was out of the confessional in less than five minutes.

It didn't occur to him until he had left the cathedral that he hadn't mentioned anything in his confession about his potentially homosexual attraction to another man. Somewhere deep down inside, he knew that it wasn't really a sin.

xxx

The next afternoon, Blaine had his official audition for the Moulin Rouge with the owner himself, William Schuester. He had not been informed that Rachel Berry would be there at the same time as him.

"I'm so excited to be here!" Rachel was saying less than thirty seconds after they'd introduced themselves in the lobby of the Moulin Rouge. "I wonder if Kurt Hummel is going to be here. I auditioned for him last night. Did you audition for him? He's absolutely brilliant. Just brilliant. He's a great kisser, too."

"Oh," Blaine said, playing dumb. "You kissed him?"

Rachel nodded eagerly. "Yes! Last night at my audition! I chose the first kiss scene from _Romeo and Juliet _as my audition piece…I knew there was nothing else I would have wanted to read with him. He has the most amazing lips…well, you'd know how I feel if you were a girl." She burst into one of her annoying giggle fits.

Blaine stared at her. _Maybe I think he has amazing lips, too_, he wanted to say. _I'm not a girl._

Thankfully he didn't have to say anything before the doors opened and a man Blaine recognized as William Schuester stepped out. "Blaine Anderson and Rachel Berry?" he asked, and they nodded. He smiled. "Come on in. We're ready for you."

Rachel skipped through the door behind Schuester and Blaine followed her without as much resignation as he'd been feeling. Schuester seemed nice enough, and Kurt had apparently raved to him about Blaine's "audition." He had nothing to worry about.

Until, that is, they stepped into the main dance hall of the Moulin Rouge. The emptiness was a stark contrast to the lively vivacity that had filled this space just last night, but Blaine didn't notice that. What he _did _notice was that a few of the other performers were here to observe the audition as well, including Kurt Hummel.

"I always have some of our performers watch everyone who comes in to audition for me, just to give them an idea of what kind of people they'd be working with if we decide to hire you," Schuester explained, but Blaine wasn't listening. His eyes were unwillingly drawn straight to Kurt, sitting at a secluded table in the corner, completely removed from everyone else.

Blaine let Rachel go first, out of courtesy and to give himself a chance to calm his nerves. He hadn't expected Kurt to be here and in all honesty he was terrified. Suddenly he couldn't remember any of the audition material he'd prepared. He was keenly aware of Kurt's eyes on him from the other side of the room.

When it was his turn, he managed to forget his inhibitions and give it his all. He performed a soliloquy and a song, and when he was done Schuester called Rachel to the center of the floor to stand beside him.

"You two both did a fantastic job, but I'm afraid we're only looking to hire one new performer at this time," he said apologetically. "Therefore, only one of you will get the job."

He paused for a second, then turned back to look at Kurt. "Hummel," he said sharply.

Kurt's head snapped up.

"Who do you think it should be?" Schuester asked him.

Kurt thought for a few seconds. When he spoke, his voice was firm and clear.

"Mademoiselle Rachel Berry," he said, looking straight at Blaine.

Blaine's heart fell into a bottomless pit. He tried not to let his disappointment show on his face.

"Congratulations, Rachel," Schuester said with a genuine smile. "Blaine, fantastic job. I'm terribly sorry, but we simply don't have a place for you at this time."

Blaine bowed slightly in humility. "Thank you," he said, then turned on his heel to make a quick exit.

He stepped out of the Moulin Rouge onto the busy Paris street. His head was spinning out of control. He couldn't believe it. He'd just lost an opportunity to get his big break. What would he become now?

There were sudden footsteps behind him, then a familiar voice called out his name. "Blaine."

He turned around. Kurt was racing to catch up with him.

"Yes?" he asked once Kurt had caught up and was standing beside him.

"You were better than her," Kurt said. "I know that, you know that, and Schuester knows that."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Then why did you give her the gig? I thought that was going to be my big break, Kurt. And…and now it's just _gone_, all right? I don't know what I'm going to do now."

"I know," Kurt said quickly, almost cutting him off. He had a pleading look in his eyes. "A-and I'm sorry. But if you'll let me explain…"

He trailed off. Blaine tried to soften his own expression to let Kurt know it was all right to continue.

"I know you're uncomfortable with me being the way I am," Kurt said slowly. "I know that it goes against everything you've believed all your life. I think it would be easier for both of us if you didn't work there. I don't want to put you in another situation like I did last night. I'd just rather be safe than sorry."

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering shyly away, and Blaine took advantage of the short silence to really look at him. Right now, Kurt was nothing like the confident, alluring entertainer he'd been just the night before. At that moment, he was just a vulnerable boy trying to explain himself to the person he had very strong feelings for – who, in Kurt's mind, didn't return those feelings.

"I'll make it up to you, though," Kurt continued after a while. "I'll put in a good word for you with every single performing arts company in Paris. I don't mean to sound full of myself, but they'll listen to what I say. You're _amazing_, Blaine. I don't just say that to anyone. I mean it. You deserve to have an incredible performing career. And it's not your fault that I have feelings for you that I know you don't – you _can't _– reciprocate. I don't want that to potentially ruin any chance you have of a great career, which is why I don't think we should work together."

He extended his hand. "It was a pleasure knowing you, Blaine."

Blaine took his hand, but didn't shake it. He wasn't even thinking about what he was doing. He held onto Kurt's hand, trying to ignore the electricity that shot through his entire body when his skin came in direct contact with the other man's.

"Are you working tonight?" he asked, and Kurt nodded. "Come over when you're done. I…I feel like I was a bit rude to you yesterday, and I feel awful. You seem like a great person, Kurt. I'd love to get to know you. Please?"

Kurt bit his lip. "Blaine, I don't know…are you sure?"

"I'm positive," Blaine told him. "W-we don't even have to talk about what happened…yesterday. I'll kick Wes and David out, we'll crack open a bottle of wine…I just thought it would be nice to get to know you a little better."

Kurt smiled wryly. "You don't mind socializing with someone who's mentally ill?"

Blaine returned Kurt's shy smile with a friendly grin of his own, but didn't answer his question. He rattled off the address of the apartment where he was staying, then said, "So will you come?"

The hesitation melted completely away from Kurt's expression. He looked genuinely touched. It occurred to Blaine that although Kurt had countless adoring fans, nobody had ever really expressed an interest in getting to know him for who he really was. They were all enamored with Kurt as an entertainer, a sex object. Blaine wanted to know Kurt as a normal human being.

"I'd love that," he whispered, almost shyly.

"Great," Blaine said. He squeezed Kurt's hand, unaware up until that moment that he'd been holding it this whole time. "I'll see you then."

He let go of Kurt's hand and turned away to head back to his apartment, not knowing that Kurt's eyes remained on him until he disappeared completely into the crowd.

xxx

It took some convincing, but Blaine was finally able to get Wes and David to leave the apartment for the night. Too late, he realized that he never should have mentioned the name "Kurt Hummel," to them when he asked if he could have the place to himself. Of course, they insisted on taking him to the Moulin Rouge again that night, so Blaine could see Kurt in action again before he had him over.

Kurt was phenomenal yet again that night. It was easier for Blaine to watch him, because he felt much better about himself after praying and going to Confession – as cliché as that sounded in his mind. He knew that if he truly believed his feelings towards Kurt were sinful, he would have confessed them to the priest. Besides, even though he barely knew Kurt, he didn't seem to come off as being a completely bad person. A little jaded, perhaps, but he was in show business and that was to be expected. Blaine knew Kurt was genuinely good, through to his core. It was just so hard to see him as being a sinner, a criminal, mentally ill.

It was still hard for Blaine to consider destroying the foundation on which he'd been raised, but he hoped that talking to Kurt tonight would make him feel even better about things. He'd heard it said so many times that God created someone special for each and every human being. Who was to say Kurt wasn't that special someone for Blaine, just because he was a man?

Well, he would never know unless he did something about it. He didn't plan on anything major tonight, just talking to Kurt and getting to know him some more. If his feelings persisted, maybe – just maybe – he would act on them.

He left the Moulin Rouge with Wes and David the second after Kurt had finished his act that night. They parted ways outside the nightclub door. Blaine would be going back to the apartment to get things ready for Kurt; his friends would be staying with some people David knew for the evening.

Blaine thought his legs were about to give out from under him the whole time it took to walk back to the apartment building. He was so nervous, and he wasn't even quite sure why. He only hoped this meeting with Kurt tonight would go well. For some reason, Blaine felt that if everything didn't work out with Kurt, his whole purpose in coming to Paris in the first place had been defeated.

He managed to tidy things up inside the tiny apartment once he got back, but of course it seemed that he'd barely been there for half an hour before he heard a knock at the door. He took a few deep breaths to collect himself before crossing the room to answer it.

Blaine couldn't help but notice that Kurt looked extremely timid now that he was out of his element at the Moulin Rouge. He was dressed in street clothes and nervously wringing a black top hat in his hands, rather than being scantily clad and writhing around a trapeze. He must have washed all the product out of his hair, because it was no longer coiffed – instead, it fell into soft bangs over his forehead. His hair in its natural style looked incredibly soft, Blaine thought.

"Hello," Kurt said warily. His voice was quiet.

"Welcome to our humble abode." Blaine smiled to put him at ease and stepped aside. "Come on in."

Kurt stepped hesitantly inside and Blaine closed the door behind him. "I can take your coat and hat, if you'd like," he offered.

Kurt took off his long black overcoat and handed it to Blaine along with his hat without saying a word. Blaine put his things in the closet near the door, then invited him to sit down.

Once they were seated, Blaine poured them each a glass of wine from the bottle he'd had on the end table. Kurt picked up his glass but didn't take a sip just yet. He cleared his throat and finally spoke.

"Thank you for inviting me here, Blaine," he said softly. "This feels nice. So many people – men and women – try to get me to come home with them after the shows, but I know they only want one thing." He laughed humorlessly. "And I'm done with that life. I'm not going to give them that one thing that they want." He paused and looked thoughtfully at Blaine. "But this…I like this. Nobody has ever wanted to just _talk _to me. Get to know me. I feel like I'm an actual person, instead of just some sexualized plaything."

Blaine had started to mentally form a response as Kurt spoke, but immediately discarded it when the other man was finished speaking. His interest had been sufficiently piqued, and he couldn't help but ask Kurt the burning question that was now on his mind.

"I'm sorry…you said you were 'done with that life'?" he asked hesitantly. "What exactly do you mean by 'that life'?"

Kurt just looked at him for a second, and Blaine shook his head. "I'm sorry. I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want. I was just wondering."

"No, no, you're fine," Kurt said with a small smile. "I don't mind talking about my life. It's not like anyone usually cares much to hear about it, anyway."

"I care," Blaine told him sincerely. "I want to know you, Kurt."

"All right, if you insist," Kurt said. He rolled his eyes but smiled all the same. "First of all, you've probably noticed that 'Kurt Hummel' is not a very French-sounding name."

Blaine immediately thought back to the very first conversation about Kurt he'd ever had with Wes and David. "No, it's not. It sounds very German, actually."

"You would be correct," Kurt told him with a smile. "I was born in Germany. Lived there until I was eight years old. That year, my parents and I had big plans to emigrate to America. A few weeks before we were due to leave, though, my mother fell ill. She passed away a short time later. She never made it to America."

Blaine's heart went out to Kurt. "I'm so sorry," he said.

Kurt shrugged sadly. "It's all right, I guess. There was nothing we could do for her," he admitted. "Before she died, though, she made one request. She wanted my father and I to go on to America without her. We had to postpone our trip for a few weeks, but we did end up going there. We wanted to honor her last request. We ended up in New York City, living in a crowded tenement with several other immigrant families."

Blaine made a face. "Oh, I've heard terrible things about the living conditions in those places."

Kurt frowned in disgust at the memory. "You haven't seen anything until you've actually lived there, believe me. They're crowded, they're unsanitary, they smell something awful. It's absolutely disgusting," he said. "I thought we could get used to it after a while, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. When I was sixteen, my father contracted some sort of disease from living in such squalid conditions. We never exactly figured out what it was, but it ended up killing him."

Blaine's hand was shaking. He set his full glass of wine down on the table and turned to Kurt with what he hoped was a purely sympathetic look in his eyes. "Kurt, I…I don't even know what to say. I mean, orphaned at sixteen…I can't imagine…"

Kurt shook his head. "It's still hard. I think about him and my mother often. I have good memories of my childhood in Germany with both of them." He smiled fondly. "Anyway. After my father passed away, I knew there was no way I could stay in that horrid tenement any longer. America really wasn't all it was cracked up to be. I wanted to go back to Europe. I'd heard wonderful things about Paris and the entertainment scene there. I'd always loved performing, so I thought I would go back and try my luck at a career as an actor or singer or something. I managed to get a few odd jobs around New York City to pay for a ticket on a ship headed back across the ocean the summer after I turned seventeen. Within a few months, I was on my home continent."

He hesitated for a moment and suddenly the look in his eyes turned to one of despair. "But it wasn't long after I'd gotten to Paris when I realized that getting a job as a performer here was harder than I had originally thought. But I needed money – at that point I was just a seventeen year old kid, fresh off a ship from America, on European soil for the first time in nine years and all alone. I had no way to earn a living. So I sunk lower than I ever thought I would sink. I took the only job I could get – as a _gigolo _at a male brothel on the lower East side of town."

Blaine's eyes went wide at Kurt's nonchalant use of the common slang term. "You mean you were—"

"A prostitute," Kurt clarified bluntly, as casually as if they'd been chatting about the weather. "I know what you're probably thinking. I'm not proud of what I did during that period in my life, but at the time I didn't know any better. All I wanted was some sense of satisfaction, and I thought I could get that by whoring myself out like I did."

Blaine sucked in a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. "Wow," was all he said.

Kurt smiled a little bit. "I _did _get out of it after only a few months. I was on my way to meet a client when I walked past the Moulin Rouge. I'd never seen it before, so I decided to go in and check it out. One thing led to another and before I knew it, I was auditioning for William Schuester, and he offered me a job. I never went back to the brothel again."

"Good," Blaine told him, taking a long sip of his wine. "That doesn't seem like you. When I see you performing at the Moulin Rouge…up on that trapeze, working the crowd…_that's _who you are. You're doing what you do best, and you always seem to be enjoying yourself…and the people who come to see the show always love you."

Kurt shrugged a little bit. "I try my best," he said. "It's hard sometimes, though. I could be having the worst day ever and I still have to go out there at night, slap on a smile and put on a show. If I don't do that, I'm letting everyone…all those people who came to see me…I'm letting them all down. It breaks my heart to think about doing that."

Blaine shook his head in disbelief. "You're remarkable, Kurt. You really are," he told him honestly. "And…I get the feeling that this is a side of yourself that you really don't share with a lot of people."

"I don't," Kurt admitted. "I was only in prostitution for a few months, but I let a lot of men take advantage of me during those few months. It's a little hard for me to trust people."

Blaine considered this. "So by you telling me all these things…does that mean you trust me?"

"Very much so," Kurt said, nodding. "I…I don't know what it is about you, Blaine, because I really don't know you at all. But something about you just makes me _trust _you."

Blaine pondered this for a few seconds when suddenly he came to a realization about something Kurt had said before. "Wes and David told me you've been working at the Moulin Rouge for about a year. You said you were seventeen when you started out there." He paused. "That makes you only eighteen now."

Kurt nodded. "Nineteen next month." He laughed humorlessly. "I know. I don't look it at all, right? Men who used to hire me thought I was much younger than I am. They seemed to like that, though."

Blaine couldn't even imagine how disgusted his own face must have looked. "That's sick," he said. "I'm so glad you got out of that."

"Me too," Kurt said quietly, nodding. "I'm so much happier now."

He took a sip of his wine, then looked at Blaine out of the corner of his eye.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked softly.

Blaine nodded. "Anything."

"I know I don't have the best past, especially if you look at what my life was like about a year and a half ago," he admitted. "But do you think I'm a bad person?"

Blaine didn't even have to think about his response. He shook his head.

"Not at all," he said.

"Thank you," Kurt whispered. Blaine got the feeling that he'd just told Kurt exactly what he needed to hear.

He turned to Blaine with a genuine smile on his face. "That's enough about me. What about you? I want to know about _you_."

So Blaine told Kurt all about himself. He shared stories about growing up in Ireland with big dreams of going to Paris one day to pursue his dream of performing. He didn't say anything about his family's religious heritage and what they may or may not have believed, because despite how important his faith was, he couldn't deny that he'd been questioning a few aspects of it lately.

Kurt seemed genuinely interested in what Blaine was saying, which made Blaine extremely happy. It wouldn't be very hard to maintain a friendship with this boy. Blaine noticed, though, that his feelings from the previous evening were still there. There was just something about Kurt that drew Blaine in like a moth to flame. Suddenly it seemed that friendship wasn't enough. Blaine wanted to _be _with him.

They stayed up talking for a long time and didn't even realize how late it was until they heard the old clock in the tower chime twice. It was already two in the morning, but Blaine wasn't even tired. All he wanted to do was stay up and keep talking to Kurt.

But when the clock rang out, Kurt immediately stopped talking and his expression turned to one of surprise. "Oh my goodness, I didn't even realize how late it was. I've overstayed my welcome…"

He started to stand up from the couch, but Blaine grabbed his arm gently to stop him. "Wait."

Kurt was already standing, but he turned his head to look down at Blaine on the couch.

"Don't go," Blaine coaxed. "It's so late, Kurt. You don't need to be walking back. Just stay here. You can sleep out here on the couch."

Kurt paused. He looked like he was considering this.

"Wesley and David won't mind?" he asked warily.

Blaine shook his head. "Not at all. They won't be back until the morning. Besides, they'll probably think it's pretty neat that Kurt Hummel stayed at their place." He grinned.

Kurt slowly sank back down to a sitting position on the couch. "All right," he said. "If you insist."

"I insist," Blaine told him. He stood up and headed toward the narrow hallway that led to the bedrooms. "I'll get you some blankets and pillows out of the hall closet, and you can sleep out here. Really, Kurt, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be walking home so late."

He went to the closet and got out an armful of spare pillows and blankets, then carried them back to Kurt in the main room. Kurt took them and offered Blaine a gracious smile.

"Thank you, Blaine," he said, and Blaine knew Kurt wasn't just thanking him for letting him stay the night.

"You're welcome," Blaine said. He turned to leave the room so Kurt could have some privacy. "Good night, Kurt."

"Good night, Blaine," Kurt's voice called after him. For whatever reason, Blaine found himself biting back a smile.

xxx

Kurt left early the next morning, before Wes and David made it home. Blaine stepped out of his bedroom and walked down the short hallway to the main room only to find the blankets and pillows neatly folded and stacked on the couch. Kurt was nowhere to be found.

He didn't see Kurt for about a week after that. Kurt had stayed true to his word and put in a good word for Blaine at every theater company in town. Blaine managed to get a job with at the very first place he tried. He would start out small, as a chorus member and understudy before working his way up to bigger and better starring and supporting roles. He didn't mind. He actually made a decent amount of money considering he was just starting out, and he knew that the longer he stayed with the company the more he would make.

The busy rehearsal schedule meant he had to leave early in the mornings and often came home late at night. There was no time for him to go to the Moulin Rouge. Still, he couldn't get his mind off of Kurt. His doubts and insecurities were completely gone. He had such strong feelings for the other man; he could think of no reason why this was so wrong. The thought of acting on his feelings thrilled and terrified him at the same time. He knew that doing anything physically with Kurt – even a simple kiss – would mean abandoning all he'd been raised to value, but for some reason the thought of this didn't bother him as much as it should have. The longer he went without seeing Kurt, the more Blaine longed for him.

Sunday came and went. For the first time in his life, Blaine did not go to Mass.

He had the evening off from rehearsal, so he decided to go with Wes and David to the Moulin Rouge. His friends were chattering excitedly about something unimportant to Blaine as they walked to the club. Blaine trailed behind them, heart pounding as he thought of Kurt.

Would Kurt remember him? Would he still have those same feelings for Blaine? Would he be open to something more happening between the two of them? A plan began to formulate in Blaine's mind as to how he would figure all this out. His idea seemed drastic, but it would give him his only opportunity to talk to Kurt. Security at the Moulin Rouge was a bit tight, so he knew it would probably be difficult to get backstage and talk to him. This would be the only way.

The party was already in full swing when they got to the club. Blaine thought he recognized Rachel Berry as one of the backup dancers, but her face was so covered in makeup that it was hard to tell. He followed Wes and David back to their usual table.

Once they were seated, he leaned in close so that his friends could hear him over the music and made his request in a hushed whisper.

"Listen," he said. "I hate to do this to you two again, but I need the apartment to myself tonight. Is there any chance you could stay somewhere else?"

"Yeah, sure, no problem," David said. "Why, you having a girl over or something?"

Blaine shook his head just as the lights went down to signal Kurt's grand entrance. The room was silent, just as it always became when Kurt got lowered down from the ceiling. Blaine, not wanting to speak and cause a scene, simply pointed up at Kurt on the trapeze.

"_What_?" Wes shouted, and Blaine stomped on his friend's foot under the table. "Why is Kurt Hummel coming over again?" he asked in a stage whisper.

"I don't know if he is for sure," Blaine said as Kurt began to sing. "But I'm going to try and get him to come over because I…I need a favor from him." The way he phrased that didn't sound right, especially considering Kurt's past, but he couldn't exactly explain the whole situation to his friends right now. It was almost time for him to act on the first part of his plan. "I'll explain tomorrow. I just really, really need the apartment to myself tonight."

Wes shrugged. "Fine with me." He turned to David to see what he thought. The other boy nodded.

"Thank you so much," Blaine told them, then jumped up from the table. "If I don't see you again tonight, I'll see you tomorrow."

He began pushing his way through the crowd towards where Kurt was being helped off the trapeze by two dancers in the middle of the floor. He managed to get to the section of the crowd that Kurt was approaching and shoved his way to the front of the group. Kurt's eyes went wide when he saw him.

"You came back," he said. Blaine was surprised he could hear how quietly Kurt was speaking over the pulsating noise of the club.

"Of course I did," Blaine said. "Why wouldn't I?"

Kurt stood there for a second, just looking at him, then realized he needed to be dancing. He pulled Blaine out onto the dance floor. This time, Blaine didn't hesitate.

"For some reason I just got the feeling I would never see you again," Kurt said softly as he spun himself around Blaine.

Blaine tried his best to follow Kurt's lead as they danced. "Oh, no. I would never be able to live with myself if I never saw you again," he said, glad that the lighting in the room was dark enough to hide his blushing face. "I…I want to see you again tonight."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, then spun himself around and began grinding on Blaine like he had the first night. "Tonight?" he repeated.

Blaine felt himself growing hard and tried to ignore the intense sensation brought on by Kurt rubbing so erotically up against him. He knew it was just part of the act, but that didn't mean he wasn't incredibly aroused. He knew Kurt could probably feel it, too.

"Yeah. Come to my apartment after the show," he said. "I kicked Wes and David out again. I...I've accepted that I have very strong feelings for you, Kurt."

Kurt laughed and rubbed up against him once more before turning around to look at him face to face. "I can tell," he said with a smile, then his face turned serious even as he began rolling his hips right up into Blaine's. "In all seriousness, though…if you want to try anything, I'd be willing to help you explore yourself and experiment a little bit. I know how hard it is to come to terms with something like this."

He looped his arm around Blaine's neck and kept thrusting his hips. Blaine let out an involuntary moan without thinking. Kurt was hard under that skimpy little leotard and his erection was rubbing right up against Blaine's and _fuck _this should not feel so good but it did, and Blaine didn't even give a damn anymore. He began thrusting back, moving his hips to meet Kurt's and create more sensual friction. The crowd started going crazy and the other dancers kept twirling around them in their elaborate costumes and Blaine didn't even know what was going on anymore.

"Please don't think I'm trying to put you in any kind of compromising position," he finally managed to say. "I know…you told me about the job you had when you first got here, and I don't want this to come off like I'm asking for some kind of sexual favor from you. It's more than that." Blaine paused to catch his breath for a second. "I really do like you, Kurt. Not only are you physically attractive, but you seem like an amazing person. I know you had mentioned having feelings for me, so I just thought…"

He trailed off and looked away from Kurt's captivating eyes.

Kurt raised his arms above his head but kept the steady motion of his hips. Blaine put his hands on Kurt's waist and continued meeting each roll of Kurt's hips with a thrust of his own.

"No, no, I didn't think you were coming off that way at all," Kurt said as he kept dancing. "I know you care about me. Hell, just last week you invited me over just to _talk _to me. You think any of my old clients were ever interested in just _talking _to me?"

He continued without waiting for Blaine to respond. "And I won't deny that I've had feelings for you since the moment I laid eyes on you, Blaine. I…I'm actually quite thrilled about this, actually."

Very slowly, Blaine moved his hand back from Kurt's waist a little bit, down to his ass, giving it a gentle but firm squeeze. Kurt yelped a little bit, then giggled.

"Tonight will be very interesting, Monsieur Anderson. That much I know," he said in a sexy little whisper, moving his face close to Blaine's.

Blaine couldn't take it anymore. Kurt's face was right there; those lips he'd been secretly craving for so long just centimeters away from his own. He inched his own face closer. Kurt's breath was warm on his skin. The very edge of Kurt's top lip skimmed against the very edge of his own, and Blaine trembled.

But then Kurt had his index finger pressed against Blaine's lips to hold him back. "Not yet," he whispered. "I'm a good boy now, remember? I don't kiss in the middle of the dance floor where everyone can see."

Blaine nodded weakly. "All right," he whispered against Kurt's finger.

Those lips curled into a beautiful smile. "I've got to go finish my act," Kurt said in a breathless murmur. "See you later, big boy."

Blaine felt his pants get just a little bit tighter, if that were possible.

Kurt slinked away from him and danced his way back over to the trapeze so he could soar to his grand finale. Blaine remained completely still right where he was as he watched Kurt take a seat on his trapeze again. He began his descent up, blowing kisses and waving to those who worshiped him down below.

xxx

When he got back to the apartment later that evening, every minute spent waiting for Kurt seemed to drag on for an hour. Blaine had nothing to do but sit on the sofa in silence, staring into space as he tried not to think about anything.

When the knock finally came at the door, he jumped up a little too eagerly but caught himself before he could pace quickly across the room to answer it. His heart felt like it was about to pound right out of his chest. If his family knew about this – that he was meeting in secret with a former male prostitute in order to test the limits of his sexuality – he would have been disowned immediately, not to mention excommunicated from the Church, and he knew it. But he didn't care about that right now. He wondered if he would ever care about those consequences again.

Once he was standing in front of the door, he took a few deep breaths before reaching for the knob and pulling it open.

He was practically knocked breathless when he opened the door. Kurt looked so stunning that Blaine thought he might cry. His hair was still slicked up in its perfect coif; his eyes sparkled with anticipation. Blaine thought he looked like he might be biting back a smile.

"Hello," Blaine said shyly, and Kurt stepped inside. "I…I can take your coat."

He wasn't sure why, but he didn't know what to expect when Kurt removed his outermost layer of clothing. Maybe he'd still be in his skimpy costume from the Moulin Rouge underneath his coat. Maybe he'd be naked. But as Kurt slipped out of the garment, Blaine noticed with relief that he was dressed in a simple white button-down shirt and dark slacks.

He turned away from Kurt to hang his coat in the closet. As soon as his hands were free, there was the gentle touch of a hand ghosting along the small of his back.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered.

The way Kurt said his name made Blaine weak in the knees. He turned to face Kurt and found himself looking right into those magnificent eyes. Blaine had never been able to tell exactly what color they were.

"I just wanted to let you know that no matter what happens tonight…if at any point you get uncomfortable, you can tell me to leave. I'll understand," the younger man said softly. "I know this is a huge step for you. You're about to do things with me that completely violate what you believe, but—"

"Believed," Blaine corrected, cutting him off gently.

Kurt blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Believed," Blaine repeated. "Past tense. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, Kurt, and a lot of praying. I've come to realize that these things I feel for you…they're not sinful and wrong." He took both of Kurt's hands in both of his own and looked straight into those fascinating eyes. "They're natural and right. Don't get me wrong, I'm still strong in my faith. But…I don't think God would have made me feel these things for you if He didn't believe it was right."

He hesitated for a moment. "And I just wanted to say I'm sorry for some of the things I said to you the night we met. And I'm sorry for ditching you on the dance floor."

Kurt squeezed his hands. "I forgive you."

Blaine smiled sheepishly. "I apologize. I completely interrupted what you were saying. Go on."

Kurt giggled a little bit. "It's perfectly all right," he said. "I just wanted to say that no matter how we look at it, this is still incredibly new to you. I want to do whatever I can to make you comfortable with whatever we end up doing tonight."

"All right," Blaine said, nodding humbly. "And the same goes for you. Kurt, I don't want you to feel like I'm using you or taking advantage of you in any way. I really…," he trailed off, sighing as he looked pleadingly into Kurt's eyes. "I care about you so much, Kurt. And I really like you. I hope there's some way to prove to you that I'm not like all those other men."

Kurt placed one hand tenderly on Blaine's cheek. The gesture was so soft and sweet that Blaine couldn't help leaning his face right into Kurt's touch.

"I know you're not like them," he whispered, his eyes never leaving Blaine's. "And I apologize if I sound somewhat selfish here. I'm not religious, but just the thought that you prayed about this and were willing to change some aspects of your beliefs in order to act on your feelings for me…that speaks volumes, Blaine. You essentially gave up a part of who you are…for me." He shook his head a little bit. His voice was barely audible when he continued. "Nobody has ever done anything close to that for me."

The emotion written all over Kurt's face as he spoke was too much for Blaine to handle. Suddenly he couldn't take it anymore. He cupped Kurt's face between his hands and leaned in to give him a kiss that stole the breath right out of his lungs.

Kurt immediately started to melt against Blaine and had to wrap his arms around his waist to hold himself steady. Blaine, meanwhile, was too awestruck by the incredible softness of Kurt's lips as they moved with his own. This felt even better than he'd dreamed it would. He trembled when he felt Kurt's lips turning up into a smile beneath his own, letting him know that he was loving this just as much as Blaine was.

He pulled away only when he absolutely needed to breathe. Kurt's face was still graced with that gorgeous smile that Blaine had felt as they kissed. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his entire face was absolutely glowing. Blaine had never seen Kurt look so _happy_.

"Good?" Kurt asked as he tried to catch his breath.

Blaine nodded eagerly. "Better than good. If that's wrong, Kurt, then I don't want to be right."

He just looked at Kurt for a second, drinking in that sweet smile, stroking the soft skin of the other boy's cheek with his calloused thumb. Kurt's smile widened as he reached up to hold Blaine's hand to his face, then leaned in and gave him another tender kiss. This one was shorter than the last but just as incredible.

Blaine took Kurt's hand when they broke the kiss and led him over to the couch. He took a seat and Kurt settled himself in Blaine's lap.

"Is this okay?" Kurt murmured against Blaine's skin as he traced his jawline with his lips. "I can move if you want."

Blaine let a quiet moan fall from his lips as Kurt began to gently suck on the pressure point at the top of his jaw, just below his ear.

"No, you're fine," Blaine managed to say. He let his eyes fall closed. "Oh, _Kurt_."

Kurt had gently sunk his teeth into Blaine's skin, and Blaine knew that would probably leave a mark but he honestly didn't mind. He had access to stage makeup at work, he could easily cover it up…or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he would leave it exposed as a symbol of what Kurt meant to him.

Kurt smoothed the bite mark he'd created on Blaine's skin with his tongue, then pressed a gentle kiss to it. His lips found their way to Blaine's again. Blaine was immediately glad they were sitting down, because he knew there was no way he'd be able to hold himself steady in a standing position. He placed one hand between Kurt's shoulder blades and the other on the small of his back as he reciprocated the kiss. Kurt slipped his tongue tentatively into Blaine's mouth; Blaine sucked on it and caught Kurt's responsive moan right into his mouth, sending shivers down his spine.

Neither of them said much after that, save for whispers of the other's name and small sighs and moans of pleasure as they kept kissing. Blaine finally forced himself to stop thinking about what he was doing and just let himself go. He had never felt more completely alive in his whole life. Being with Kurt like this made him feel things he'd never felt before. Suddenly it was unimportant that Kurt was a boy and so was he. Doing this just felt _right_.

At one point, Kurt shifted himself in Blaine's lap so that he was face to face with him, straddling his waist. Blaine sighed in pleasure against Kurt's lips; the new position allowed for Kurt's hips to roll right up against his own, just as they'd been doing on the dance floor earlier in the evening. Kurt began rutting against him, rolling his hips in slow, drawn-out thrusts. Blaine never thought he would love the feeling of another man's arousal against his own so much, but feeling Kurt hard against him was the most amazing sensation he could ever recall.

Kurt broke their deep kiss and pulled back to look at Blaine. As he attempted to catch his breath, Blaine took a moment to just study Kurt's face. His face was completely flushed; his lips were red and swollen from kissing. Blaine must have been running his hands through Kurt's hair without even realizing what he was doing, because his hair was rumpled and disheveled.

"You look amazing," Blaine whispered.

Those kiss-bruised lips spread into a beautiful smile. Blaine picked his head up and pressed a kiss to Kurt's forehead, his nose, the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you for coming over," he whispered against Kurt's skin before moving his lips to cover the other boy's yet again.

Kurt giggled against Blaine's lips. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be," he murmured without breaking the kiss.

They stayed awake for a long time, sharing passionate kisses and nothing more. As much as he was enjoying this, Blaine wasn't sure if he was ready to go any further tonight, and Kurt seemed to be fine with that as well. They managed to cool themselves down from the heat of the moment with some softer, more innocent kisses. Eventually they found themselves lying down on the couch, Blaine on his back with Kurt tangled around him.

"Do you mind if I stay here again?" Kurt murmured drowsily. He nuzzled his nose adorably against Blaine's.

"Not at all," Blaine told him. "Do _you _mind just falling asleep right here, like this? Quite honestly, I don't feel like moving or being away from you."

"No," Kurt said softly. "I don't mind."

Blaine smiled and kissed Kurt's forehead. "Good night, Kurt."

Kurt placed his head on Blaine's chest and Blaine instinctively folded his arms around him. "Good night, Blaine."

Blaine watched his eyes fall gently closed. He had a tiny, satisfied smile on his lips as his breathing slowed and he drifted off into sleep.

As he watched Kurt sleep in his arms, Blaine realized he hadn't said his usual prayer that night. He closed his eyes and smiled as he said a silent prayer of thanks for the beautiful boy in his arms.

xxx

Blaine met in secret with Kurt every night after that. They'd taken to holding their secret rendezvouses in Kurt's apartment, since he didn't room with anyone and Blaine didn't want to have to worry about kicking Wes and David every night. Each evening after rehearsal, he would go to Kurt's private quarters, where the other boy would have just returned from his shift at the Moulin Rouge. They would lie together on Kurt's bed for hours, kissing and touching and tasting and exploring, going just a tiny bit further each time. It was all so new and exciting to Blaine, and every night was a new adventure. Eventually they would fall asleep in each other's arms, the only place they felt safe.

Blaine had explained the situation with much hesitation to Wes and David, not sure how they would take it. After all, he wasn't sure how they felt about that sort of thing. Thankfully, though, they seemed to understand. Neither of them seemed to have a problem with their friend having an affair with another man. They vowed to keep it a secret.

Blaine had absolutely no reservations anymore. His meetings with Kurt were always the best part of his day, and he regretted having to leave and go to rehearsal at his theater company every morning. He couldn't believe that just a few weeks ago, he would have deemed these actions sinful and worthy of damnation.

Still, they had to keep it under wraps. It killed him to know that society would never be accepting of their relationship, because sometimes all he wanted to do was walk down the street hand in hand with Kurt without fear of what people would say or do to them. But he knew that it was safer this way. He felt safe with Kurt. When they were alone, wrapped up in each other, nothing could touch them.

One night, about two weeks after they'd begun meeting in secret every night, Blaine went to Kurt's private quarters after rehearsal as he always did nowadays. He rapped on the door with the secret knock they'd come up with and waited for Kurt to answer the door.

The second Kurt pulled the door open from the inside, though, Blaine knew something was wrong. His eyes were red rimmed from crying and his cheeks were streaked with tears. Before he even said a word, Blaine pulled Kurt into is arms. Kurt buried his face in Blaine's shoulder and began to quietly cry.

"Shhh," Blaine whispered, gently rubbing his hands up and down Kurt's back as he cried. "It's all right. You're all right."

Kurt straightened himself up and shook his head. "No," he said weakly through his tears. "It's not."

"Come on," Blaine said, gently guiding Kurt inside. "Let's go sit down and you can tell me everything."

"No, I…I can't," Kurt stammered. "I have to go, Blaine."

Blaine blinked. "What do you mean."

"Rachel," Kurt gasped around a sob. "Rachel Berry. You remember her?" he asked, and Blaine nodded. Kurt's eyes went wide. "She knows," he whispered.

"I'm sorry?" Blaine was confused, but somehow he had a feeling of unimaginable dread building in the pit of his stomach.

"She knows about us," Kurt told him. His whole body was trembling; Blaine wrapped him in his arms to try and hold him still. "She moved into the apartment right across the street from this building when she got the job at the Moulin Rouge. I…I guess we've forgotten to draw the shades a few times, because she claims to have seen us…a-and she says she sees you leave every morning…"

Blaine bit his lip nervously. "So what does this mean?"

Kurt looked straight into Blaine's eyes. There were so many indescribable emotions racing through the other boy's gaze; Blaine had no way to put into words how he looked in that moment.

"She thinks I've been…hiring you," Kurt said hesitantly. Blaine immediately picked up on what he meant. "Which is strange, because she doesn't even know what I used to be before I started working at the Moulin Rouge. But that's not important. Anyway, she's blackmailing me. She says i-if I don't come over to her place tonight and 'prove her wrong,' as she says, she'll expose me as a homosexual and have you arrested for prostitution."

Blaine's jaw dropped. He halfheartedly hoped for a second that perhaps he'd misheard, but knew there was no way he could have imagined what Kurt just told him.

"W-what does she mean by 'prove her wrong'?" he asked tentatively, even though he had a pretty good idea.

"I have to sleep with her," Kurt whispered. He looked away from Blaine, utterly ashamed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Blaine. I…I hate having to do this, but it's the safest thing for both of us."

He collapsed into Blaine's arms again, sobbing into his chest. Blaine tried to comfort him, but it was hard when his own world had just fallen to pieces around him.

"Hey," he said after a few moments had passed, and Kurt picked his head up to look at him.

"What?" Kurt whispered.

"This is a very honorable thing to do," he said, looking straight into Kurt's eyes. "I don't like that you have to do it, but it's the only way to protect both of us."

Kurt placed his hands on Blaine's face and gave him an emotional kiss. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and kissed him back, trying to commit the press of Kurt's lips against his own to memory. When they pulled away, Kurt looked him straight in the eyes and whispered the words that shook Blaine to the core in the best way possible.

"I love you, Blaine," he whispered. "_Je t'aime_."

It was the first time either of them had ever said those words so explicitly. Without thinking, Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt's but didn't exactly kiss him yet.

"_Je t'aime_, Kurt," he murmured against Kurt's lips.

Kurt trembled in Blaine's arms and gave him a proper kiss. Too soon, he pulled away.

"I have to go." He reached inside his apartment and grabbed his coat from the hook by the door where it hung, then pulled it on. "Go back to your place. I…I promise I'll come see you as soon as I'm…done."

He stepped outside the door and pulled it shut behind him, then placed one more kiss on Kurt's lips.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again before he turned away.

Blaine watched him go, completely unable to move. He didn't even know what to think or feel anymore. Even when Kurt was out of sight, he stayed frozen there. He was numb.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there before he finally decided to move. He walked mechanically down the hall, his mind blank and racing with a million thoughts both at the same time. When he stepped outside the apartment building, it was raining.

He stood in the pouring rain for a second, staring up at the building across the street from Kurt's – Rachel's building. He looked in all the windows, trying to see inside. Near the center of the building, he finally saw them. Rachel was standing in Kurt's reluctant arms, pressing kisses to the smooth, ivory skin of his neck. Kurt was completely unresponsive, staring longingly off in space. Blaine's heart broke.

He didn't even get a chance to move before Kurt's gaze suddenly flickered to the open window and he saw Blaine standing there on the street. Blaine held his lover's gaze for a long time. There were no words to explain how hurt he looked.

Finally, Kurt reached out and pulled the curtain shut. Blaine took this as his cue to leave.

He ended up back at the apartment he shared with Wes and David without any clue how he'd gotten there. His friends were still awake, playing cards in the main room when Blaine arrived. They began bombarding him with questions as to why he wasn't with Kurt. Blaine ignored them and went to shut himself away in the bedroom, thankful when he noticed that Wes and David had the courtesy not to bother him.

He began crying loud, ugly, noisy sobs into his pillow. He'd given up a part of himself to be with Kurt, and in the grand scheme of things it still wasn't enough – there were still people out there who thought that what they were was wrong. The fact that Kurt should even have to be doing something like this broke him apart inside. He didn't understand how people could doubt love.

It had only been a few minutes before there was a knock at his bedroom door. Blaine picked his head up from the pillow when he heard the sudden noise.

"What do you want?" he snapped, thinking it was Wes or David coming to check on him.

A sliver of light from the hallway slipped into the dark room as the door was opened.

"Blaine?" a soft voice – one that Blaine would recognize anywhere – said.

He sat up with a start and turned to see Kurt standing in the doorway, drenched from the rain.

"Kurt," he whispered, then stood up and quickly paced across the small room to take the other man in his arms. "Oh, Kurt."

Kurt was already crying. "I couldn't do it," he sobbed, burying his face into Blaine's neck. "I couldn't go through with it. I saw you standing there on the street when you left my apartment and it _killed _me, Blaine. I couldn't do that to you."

Blaine reached out to push the door shut, then used that hand to tilt Kurt's chin up. He placed a soft kiss on the other boy's lips; Kurt drew in a shaky breath before kissing him back.

"We have to run away," Kurt whispered when he broke the kiss a few seconds later. "It's not safe for us to stay here, Blaine. She'll follow through on her plan. You'll be arrested."

"Yes, we will. We'll run away," Blaine promised, giving him a reassuring kiss on the lips. "But…not tonight."

"What?" Kurt whispered in disbelief. "Blaine, we _have _to get out of here."

Blaine shook his head. "She doesn't know where I live," he said. "We're safe for now. There's one more thing I want to do before we leave."

Kurt's eyes, shiny with tears, widened. "What's that?" he whispered.

Blaine's hand found Kurt's and he intertwined their fingers. When he spoke, his voice was low but completely firm.

"I want you to make love to me, Kurt," he declared. "All the way."

He was aware that this was a huge step. They'd only seen each other naked above the waist, after all, and they'd been taking things relatively slowly in the few weeks they'd spent together. But there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted this – wanted _Kurt_– more than anything. The thought of taking Kurt inside him, the two of them becoming one, sent a thrill to his heart.

Kurt nodded. "All right," he whispered.

He leaned in and gave Blaine a kiss, gentle and sweet, but his fingers immediately began working the buttons on Blaine's shirt. It wasn't long before the garment was on the floor and Kurt's hands were exploring Blaine's bare chest as they kissed. Blaine trembled with desire under Kurt's touch and began to reciprocate the action, his fingers working the buttons on Kurt's shirt to unveil that smooth, creamy skin underneath.

As soon as the other boy's shirt was out of the way, Blaine immediately lowered his head and attached his mouth to one of Kurt's nipples, sucking the sensitive bud to hardness. Kurt moaned and brought his hands to the back of Blaine's head, letting his fingers tangle in his dark curls. Blaine moved his mouth to the other nipple once the first was rigid and let his hands travel to the waistband of his pants to begin working on the button there.

He pressed a kiss to the center of Kurt's chest and then looked at him with his hands poised to slip his pants off his waist, letting his eyes make a wordless request. Kurt nodded. Blaine kept his eyes on Kurt's as he slipped his remaining clothing down his legs, letting his confined erection finally spring free.

Blaine tried to maintain his eye contact once Kurt was completely naked, but he gave in to temptation and let his gaze wander over the rest of his lover's body. Kurt looked like he had been carved from pure ivory by some divine sculptor. Blaine slowly wrapped one hand around Kurt's throbbing erection. The other boy's legs quivered with pleasure.

"You're _beautiful_," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he kissed Kurt. His hand began stroking his lover's hard length and Kurt dug his nails into Blaine's hips to hold himself steady. "God, you are _so _beautiful, Kurt."

Kurt broke the kiss with a shaky gasp and a breathless smile as he slipped his hands under the waistband of Blaine's pants. "My turn?"

Blaine nodded, wanting nothing more than for Kurt to see all of him. "Your turn."

Kurt rid him of his pants in no time flat. When they were both naked, Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist to pull him closer. His own erection slid right up against Kurt's, and both boys moaned.

"I want you," he gasped as Kurt wrapped one hand around both of them, holding them together, jerking both of them off at once. "I love you."

"I want you and I love you too, Blaine," Kurt murmured with a smile. He squeezed his hand tightly around both of their erections, eliciting a deep moan from Blaine, then gave him a simple kiss. They shared a lingering smile when they broke away, then Kurt scooped Blaine up in his arms bridal-style and carried him to the bed.

**New York City, 1900**

_As it turned out, that first trip to the Moulin Rouge with Wes and David ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me. If it hadn't been for that unforgettable night, I never would have met the boy who would become the love of my life. All it took was a couple steps outside my comfort zone and a willingness to open my mind and leave behind some things I'd believed my whole life._

Blaine smiled to himself as he pulled that full page out of the typewriter and inserted a fresh seat. It had taken him a full afternoon of typing, but he'd managed to finish his memoirs – well, he was _almost _done. Maybe he would publish them after all. After all, they weren't in Europe anymore. People here in New York were a bit more liberal than they were across the ocean. Maybe some would deem him mentally ill and try to have him committed, but he was strong enough not to let that happen.

_I truly believe that there is someone out there for everyone, as long as you open your heart and mind. I am still strong in my faith. I thank God every single day for my amazing Kurt. And in a way, my faith is stronger than ever after my trying experience with trying to figure myself out last year in Paris._

"Blaine?"

He turned around to see his lover standing in the doorway, already wearing his coat and top hat. Blaine's favorite smile was spread across Kurt's face and his eyes were shining with excitement. They looked green today, but that color would probably change later. Kurt's eyes were Blaine's favorite physical feature on him. They were always surprising him, always unpredictable, just like Kurt.

"I can't be late for my big debut," Kurt told him. "Are you ready?"

Blaine pushed back his chair and stood up. He would finish his memoirs when he got home. Kurt had gotten a part in a musical down at the up-and-coming Broadway theater district, and it was opening night. Blaine couldn't wait to see him. He would be sitting in the very front row to cheer Kurt on, always his number one fan.

"Of course," he murmured with a smirk. He wrapped Kurt in his arms and pulled him closer, eliciting a fit of giggles from the younger man. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

He gave Kurt a sweet kiss and continued speaking without breaking it. "I'm so proud of you."

"It means so much to hear you say that," Kurt whispered. He smiled against Blaine's lips and reciprocated the kiss.

Blaine found himself smiling as well as he stood there kissing Kurt. He was so glad they'd decided to run away together. Not only did it give Kurt a second chance at life here in America – they actually had enough money to afford a decent apartment together – but it gave them both a second chance at life, period. Here, they could truly live.

* * *

><p><strong>First, this has nothing whatsoever to do with this story, but I wanted to get the word out about this. I'm starting a birthday project for Chris Colfer (yes, I know it's like five months away.) If you're interested in participating, private message me on here or tweet me (twitter link is in my profile). I'll link you to the Tumblr I set up for the project. :)<strong>

**Anyway, I couldn't bring myself to write the sad ending from the movie. Aw well. Reviews make me unbelievably happy so don't be afraid to leave some, por favor.**


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